the mat by the scruff of his shirt. Their faces were inches apart. The last time I had seen Aiden that angry was when he’d gone after Seth the night I’d been slipped the brew.
“That is not how you spar with your partner,” Aiden said in a cold, low voice. “I’m sure Instructor Romvi has taught you better than that.”
Jackson’s eyes grew impossibly large. He was on the tips of his toes, arms dangling at his sides. It was then that I realized Jackson’s nose was bleeding—bleeding worse than my mouth was. Someone had hit him—that someone most likely being Aiden. Because only a pure would be able to do that and have no one intervene.
He let go of Jackson. The half fell to his knees, cradling his face. Aiden spun around, his eyes quickly assessing the damage. Then he turned to Instructor Romvi, speaking too low and quick for me or the class to understand.
Before I knew what was happening, Aiden crossed the mats and caught hold of my arm. We didn’t speak as he walked me from the training room. “My bag,” I protested.
“I’ll have someone retrieve it for you.”
In the hall, he grasped my shoulders and turned me around. His eyes went from dark gray to silver when his gaze fell to my lip. “Instructor Romvi never should’ve allowed it to go that far.”
“Yeah, I don’t think he cared.”
He swore.
I wanted to say something. Like “these things happen”… or at least, about how it could be expected since I didn’t have a lot of friends here. Or maybe I should thank Aiden, but by the warring emotions playing out across his striking face I could tell he wouldn’t appreciate it. Aiden was furious—furious for all the wrong reasons. He’d reacted as if a common guy had hit me, and not a half-blood. As a pure-blood, there had been no reason for him to intervene. That was the Instructor’s job. Aiden had forgotten that in a moment of complete, unbridled rage.
“I shouldn’t have done that—lost my temper,” he said quietly, sounding and looking terribly young and vulnerable for someone I believed to be so powerful. “I shouldn’t have hit him.”
My eyes flicked across his face. Even though my face throbbed, I wanted to touch him. I wanted him to touch me . And then he did, but not in the way I wanted. Placing his hand on my lower back, he steered me toward the med office. I wanted to touch my mouth to see how bad it was. Actually, I wanted a mirror.
The pure-blood doctor took one look at my face and shook her head. “On the table.”
I hoisted myself up. “Is it going to scar?”
The doc grabbed a cloudy-looking white bottle and several wads of cotton. “Not sure yet, but try not to talk right now. At least until I make sure there is no damage inside the lip, okay?”
“If it scars, I’m gonna be so pissed.”
“Stop talking,” Aiden said, leaning against the wall.
The doc shot him a smile, apparently not curious as to why I had been escorted by a pure. She turned back to me. “This may sting a bit.” She dabbed the cotton over my lip. Sting? —it burned like crazy. I nearly jumped off the table.
“Antiseptic,” she said, offering a sympathetic look. “We want to make sure you don’t get any infections. Then you would scar.”
Burning? I could deal with that. It took the doc a couple of minutes to clean up my lip. I waited, somewhat impatiently, for the verdict.
“I don’t think you’re going to need stitches on the lip itself. It’s going to swell and be a bit tender for a while.” She tipped my head back and gently poked at my mouth. “But I think we’re going to need a stitch right… under your lip here.”
I winced as she started poking there too and focused on her shoulder. Show no pain. Show no pain. Show no pain . The doc dipped her fingers in the brown jar and pressed the torn skin together. I yelped as a scalding pain radiated from the skin under my lip and spread across my face.
Aiden started forward, stopping when he seemed to realize there